


Stretch It Out

by writerposer



Category: Arthurian Mythology & Related Fandoms, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Enthusiastic Consent, Injured!Arthur, M/M, Massage, Physical Therapy, bottom!Arthur, top!Merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:15:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25199863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerposer/pseuds/writerposer
Summary: Arthur's weekly physical therapy massage has a surprise ending.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 242





	Stretch It Out

**Author's Note:**

> if there are any typos please tell me I wrote this in one shot at 3 am

Arthur waved at Freya, who was working the desk shift, on his way into the physical therapy clinic. 

“Arthur! Last appointment of the day. You’re looking strong,” Freya winked at him. 

Arthur grinned as he signed in, “All thanks to this place.”

He’d been coming in twice a week since he tore his ACL a few months back during what started out as a friendly game of rugby. Serves him right for playing as hard as he did at university, he was stuck limping around his office for months as he slowly recovered. Hard to charm business associates when you need a cane to get around properly. At least he was getting to the end of his stint in recovery and could stop looking like an aspiring Ebeneezer Scrooge.

He walked back past the clinic’s offices into the gym area, until he spotted a familiar flop of brown hair. Merlin looked up at him from where he was wiping down an elliptical, and if Arthur felt something inside him flip when he got hit with that lopsided grin, well, he was allowed to keep it to himself. 

“We’ll start you on the stationary bike, 15 minutes, and then I’ll stretch you out,” Merlin said, and left to putter around the clinic, wiping down equipment they wouldn’t use, and waving off the other clients of the day. The 15 minutes flew by, Arthur spending most of it surreptitiously ogling Merlin in his tight khakis. 

After the timer went off, Arthur made his way to the flat exam table, lying back on the pillow Merlin left for him. 

“Alright, how have you been feeling this week? Any pain today?” Merlin asked, snapping on some rubber gloves. Arthur wishes the snap alone didn’t do something for him inside, but nobody’s perfect.

“Just some around the top of the knee,” Arthur said.

“Right here?” Merlin asked, thumb carefully circling the top of Arthur’s left knee over his track pants. 

“Yeah, but it’s not too bad.”

Merlin hummed, and let his fingers carefully dance over Arthur’s kneecap, massaging at the soft tissue carefully. 

“We’ll start with a massage then, and after I’ll assess your flexibility.”

Arthur felt himself relax into the table, letting Merlin work. His fingers eventually migrated up from the knee, and worked into his quad, kneading carefully. For symmetry’s sake, Merlin started to work the other side, and Arthur felt himself melt back under Merlin’s careful fingers.

Merlin tisked, snapping Arthur out of his reverie. 

“What?”

“Mm, Arthur I’ve told you, the massage therapy is much more effective if you’re wearing shorts. I just can’t get deep enough, and I can’t get to put the muscle cream on to ease the way,” Merlin complained, still dutifully kneading into his upper thigh 

Arthur sighed and nodded. In another life he’d gripe at Merlin for not reminding him, but it was his fault. 

“You know, you could always just take these off,” Merlin said casually, as if his words didn’t just give Arthur a semi. 

“Oh, are, are you sure?” Arthur managed to get out, as if his brain weren’t screaming. 

Merlin lowered his voice conspiratorially, “It’s just us left, and I don’t mind if you don’t.”

And Arthur didn’t have much to recourse except to shimmy off his track pants and toss them to the side. 

“Much better,” Merlin said, his gloved hands digging into Arthur with renewed vigor. When Merlin reached down and came back with the muscle cream, working on Arthur’s warm muscles. 

Soon Arthur was lost to the smooth slide of Merlin’s hands, steadily moving down the taut muscles of Arthur his thighs, and he felt himself lulled into a sort of trance. Which is why he couldn’t even think of hiding his erection, his cock growing fatter and fatter, until the head was pressed uncomfortably underneath the waistband. Merlin, consummate professional, ignored Arthur’s predicament, his hands only going so far as the lower edge of Arthur’s boxer briefs. 

“Alright, leg up,” Merlin said, and Arthur dutifully lifted his leg, letting Merlin prop it up on his shoulder. 

When Merlin leaned forward, deepening the stretch, his free hand brushed against Arthur’s straining cock, and Arthur let out a moan in one huff. The further Merlin stretched him, the harder Arthur got. And then Merlin just suddenly put Arthur’s leg down, arranging his knee up, and taking out a protractor of all things. 

“You’ve got good range of motion, much improved,” Merlin said clinically, and moved on to the other leg. The torture resumed as Merlin did the same routine on the other leg, though this time his hand lingered on Arthur’s bulge, giving the shaft a quick squeeze through fabric. Arthur squirmed, but tried to keep still as Merlin measured his range again. 

“Alright, shirt off, and on your stomach,” Merlin ordered.

Arthur groaned, but complied, and flipped himself over carefully, trying to keep as comfortable as he could with his dick trying to actively escape from his underwear. He could feel the wet spot from the leaking tip as he lowered his stomach down to the exam table. 

Merlin set about massaging the backs of Arthur’s thighs, working the hamstring until Arthur was panting, Slowly, Merlin’s hands began to drift upward, carefully rolling Arthur’s round cheeks in his palms. 

“You know,” Arthur started slowly, “I’m not getting as deep a massage as I’d like.”

“Oh? Then we’ll have to adjust that,” Merlin said carefully, and without another word peeled back the band of Arthur’s underwear, freeing his ass, but tightening the fabric around his dick, and the increased pressure made Arthur hiss.

Merlin went back to massaging Arthur’s ass, though his right hand began making slow swipes across his crack, eventually pressing a dry finger just outside his hole. A challenge.

“God, Merlin, please,” Arthur finally broke, and though he couldn’t see his face Arthur knew Merlin was grinning.

“God, Merlin, please what?” 

“Fuck don’t make me say it,” Arthur whined.

“I can’t know what you mean Arthur,” Merlin replied, the bastard. 

“Merlin, please, please, fuck me,” Arthur begged.   
“Well, I suppose I haven’t assessed every aspect of your physical ability yet,” Merlin mused.

When Merlin’s hands left him, Arthur suddenly felt very, very naked, but soon they were back, and a bottle was clicking open, and one of Merlin’s slick fingers was slowly pushing in. Arthur sighed, and tried to push back, but Merlin’s other hand pressed into his shoulder blades, gently keeping him on the table. Arthur whined again, but remained still as Merlin carefully coaxed, one, and then two fingers into his tight hole, the other hand gently caressing his back. When Merlin added a third finger, he crooked them back, shooting lightning through Arthur’s core.

“Fuck, Merlin, hurry up, please,” Arthur said. 

“Patience, recovery takes time,” Merlin said, his voice ever so calm, but after a few more careful strokes, Merlin withdrew, and tapped carefully on Arthur’s back.

“All fours, I want to test your endurance,” he said.

Arthur scrambled up to his hands and knees, any shred of dignity gone. Merlin worked his underwear down to his thighs, and Arthur sighed as his cock sprang out of confinement. 

Arthur peaked back at Merlin, and was pleased to see a deep flush in his neck, and when he stood up, foil packet in hand, Arthur greedily eyed the bulge in his pants. 

“Face me properly,” Merlin said, and Arthur quickly turned himself around. 

Before Merlin could unzip properly, Arthur started to mouth at the fabric, already so desperate. Merlin, the absolute dickhead, doesn’t even crack, cradling Arthur’s jaw with one hand, gently pushing him back, and then freeing his own cock from his pants with the other. As soon as Merlin let go of Arthur’s face, he lurched forward, taking Merlin down in one go. Merlin held gently onto Arthur’s neck, holding him in place as he shallowly fucked his mouth. 

“Shit, Arthur,” Merlin finally groaned, breaking character.

Arthur grinned around his cock, and tried to take him deeper, but Merlin switched his grip to his hair, and pulled him off.

“Turn around,” Merlin said roughly, and Arthur scooted around, trying to wiggle his ass to cover up the awkward movement. He moved to quick, and felt a sharp pain in his knee. 

Merlin, ever vigilant, noticed Arthur’s wince, even as he rolled a condom on himself. 

“Actually, let’s get you on your back,” Merlin said, carefully running his hands over Arthur’s left side. 

Arthur grunted, and flipped over, and for good measure spread his knees to just get Merlin to get on with it. 

Merlin mercifully didn’t continue the torture any longer, easing himself inside Arthur. He paused for a moment, closing his eyes as he adjusted, but soon he was thrusting in again, and Arthur tried to memorize the little punched out noises he was making. After what felt like forever on edge, Merlin reached down and finally slid his gloved hands over Arthur’s cock, precum and lube easing the way.

“Fuck, fuck, Merlin, I’m not-” and Arthur couldn’t even finish his sentence because he was coming all over his chest.

He felt Merlin go still, and then collapse onto his chest, smearing his mess between them. They lay in silence for a moment, until Merlin’s soft chuckle broke the tension. He carefully pulled out, and Arthur threw his head back and looked at the ceiling, only to have Merlin fill his vision and kiss him gently.

“I’ve always wanted to fuck on this table,” Arthur sighed after Merlin pulled away.

“I know, you mentioned it two weeks ago after our session,” Merlin said, dampening a towel, “And last week after you got pissed at the pub. And last night when I was inside you you said, and I quote, ‘Please fuck me like that after Physical Therapy,’” Merlin said as he wiped off Arthur’s chest.

“Mm, but I meant it. I always wanted to fuck on this table. Now I have. I can die a happy man,” Arthur said, eyes drifting closed.

“How’s your knee feeling?” Merlin asked, briefly switching back to physical therapist mode.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine,” Arthur said, eyes still closed, and heard Merlin sigh in relief.

“Oh don’t you go falling asleep, you still need to drive us home,” Merlin jostled Arthur’s arm. 

“Ugh, you drive,” Arthur grumbled.

“You’re gonna let me drive your car? Now I must have done you well, you’ve lost your mind.”

“Shut up, Merlin.”

“You love me,” Merlin teased.

“Yeah, whatever,” Arthur said, “Help me get dressed.”

“Yes, sire,” Merlin joked, but when he saw the hungry look that crossed Arthur’s face, he got an idea for their next night.


End file.
